


Fireworks

by randomling



Category: Popslash
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-29
Updated: 2007-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-11 05:07:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/108746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomling/pseuds/randomling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joey's not sure the fireworks were such a good idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ravenbat](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ravenbat).



They have a free morning, so Joey wakes up slowly, noticing small details come into focus as the world comes trickling back. He has a headache: that makes sense, there was definitely drinking. The other side of the bed is rucked up. The sheets are sort of gross. The shower's running.

Joey sits up suddenly, the sound of the water really loud in his head. He has no idea who he picked up last night, and that's never good, even though he usually clears things with security before he takes anyone back to a hotel room. New Year's: always a crazy night.

Wrapping the sheet around his waist, he takes a survey of the room. It's a mess, but that's not a total shock. On the table there's a bottle of champagne, all gone, and two glasses; neither of them has a lipstick stain. Clothes are strewn around the place, and Joey recognizes the jeans he was wearing last night, his shirt, and... designer sneakers? They're definitely guys' sneakers, Joey knows this, because Justin...

There's a bandana draped over the back of one of the chairs, and crumpled on the floor is another pair of guys' jeans, way too small for Joey. Joey covers his face with one hand. "Oh, no," he murmurs. "Tell me, tell me, tell me I didn't."

He can't have picked up Justin. Really. He can't.

He flops onto his back again, sighing, casting his mind back to last night. After the show, they went to a party – Hawaiian chicks, lots of shimmying, lots of beer. Justin dancing with some random girl, grinning all over his pretty face. Chris, his arm draped over Lance's shoulder, giving him brotherly advice. JC talking earnestly with someone, beer in hand. More beer. Fireworks.

Oh, shit. Fireworks. The countdown. Yeah, that happened all right. Joey, drunk, slung his arm around Justin's shoulders as they counted back: five, four, three, two, one. And then they'd all shouted, "Happy new year!" and there was cheering, and fireworks went off, and Justin kissed him. Joey hadn't gotten any more sober in those five seconds. He kissed back.

The bathroom door opens, and Justin emerges, a towel wrapped around his waist. Joey looks at him once and then covers his face again. "Shit, man."

"You're not freaking out, are you?" Justin says, and it's just _wrong_ that Justin is the one being all adult about this. Joey groans. Justin comes to sit on the other side of the bed. "Hey. Don't. It was a good time, I'm not, like, corrupted for life or anything."

Joey uncovers his face to look at Justin, eyebrows raised.

"I'm not sixteen any more, yo," says Justin.

He smiles and drops the towel, and, whoa. There's Justin, looking pretty damn fine. Joey's going to hell. "I'm going to hell," he says.

Justin crawls onto the bed. "Can I come too?" he asks. And he kisses Joey, and then he crawls into bed and reminds Joey of last night, when there were fireworks.


End file.
